Mockery
by Cambion Delacroix
Summary: She had to be quite talented to have everyone else around her little finger, even if he'd seen through her ploys; so Blood thought. BloodAlice - Manga-verse.


She was a mockery, nothing more and nothing less.

Her words dripped of venom, but her tongue was coated in sugar. Foul was all sugar was to him anymore. Not a single cube of it had entered his beloved teacups for days upon nights upon days.

But really, could she be such a failure of a trickster that he himself saw through her ploys? He had to admit, he was among the higher ranks of Wonderland (to note: his role as 'one with roles', and even among them he was the leader of the /mafia/), so clearly his finding out wasn't all that questionable. However, she had to be quite talented to have everyone else around her little finger. Hm, he sighed, placing the cool ceramic cup upon his desk, made from the wood of the forest that was not oak or maple or any other wood that had been given a title. She'd even managed the /queen/, with her eyes of malice and her calculated smirk, yes, she'd managed her into her own, carefully careless grasp.

Ha! He wanted to laugh at the prospect. Such a meek, charmless girl managing such a feat as that. How could she? He knew the queen better than all, even her dearest king; and he knew that while she had her weaknesses, they were not easy to come. And how, how else could such a worthless, vain girl get into the queen's head, Vivalda's head which she prized so dearly above all others?

Why, she talked her way in circles, of course! Seduction of the heart among the men, and seduction of the mind for the Queen; how perfect, stepping past expected territory, for hearts were exactly what Vivalda could manage perfectly. She knew her own heart well and had trained it right. But oh, just like that awkward, unsociable girl to find such a weakness in her.

Staring into the tea just a foot or so below his nose, ripples fluttered and his train of thought was shattered in moments.

"Hey, boss!" the hare, or man-whom-had-not-a-trait-like-a-rabbit, as he himself would say, Elliot barged in. "Alice and I are off to do some scouting at the amusement park! But I doubt she'll want any more rides, thanks to Boris." He chuckled and smiled, a touch out of character for him, Blood noted. Blast, she really was changing their hearts, the cold clocks of their insides and warming them like her own outsider organ. "So, mind if I send her in to grab a couple books?"

His eyes widened, irises floating in a sea of pearly white. Before he had time to bluntly deny Elliot's ridiculous request, the door was shut and he could hear footsteps down the hall. He closed his eyes, listening in and reaching up to adjust his hat, before realizing that he'd removed it hours ago.

Next came the sounds of struggle. He smirked. Clearly, Blood had taught Alice her lesson, hadn't he? He'd shown her just how such a pathetic little girl could find herself in the Kingdom where neither life nor death are a matter of importance. She'd been smart in her avoidance, at which he found himself thoroughly amused. And yet, he thought, eyes opening once more, the amusement had only just begun. Her death was his wish, was it not? How would it be, he wondered, to kill an outsider?

"E-/Elliot/!" she practically squawked, lack of grace and her carelessnessclearinheracti-

Blood blinked.

Again, he blinked.

And once more.

Where was that rushed ticking /coming from/?

It hurt his head, he thought, gritting his teeth and ignoring the blonde who'd just been practically - no, very blatantly, in fact - forced into his study.

No, Blood's full attention was on her. On her and the ticking. Why did this always happen? He took a calm breath, and drew his tea near his lips. Emotionless smirk in place, he murmured, "Back again, /Alice/?"

Why did his intended conceit result in charm? Leading her on was just as well, he reminded himself. The ticking hadn't stopped.

"Ha!" she mocked, crossing her arms and looking to the side. Not that her dress was the most extravagant, but her defiant pose along with her appearance of femininity... It provided a sort of allur- repulsive parallelism. A slight and not quite noticeable flick of his eyes was added in response to his mental slip-up. "As if I /wanted/ to come here!" Ah, interrupting his thoughts once again... Even if they were about her in particular. "Now, if you'll excuse me-"

Legs pumped full of adrenaline, ticking even more rushed, words falling out of his mouth: "Were you not here for some reading material?"

"Because we both know how well that turned out last time," her expression and tone portrayed disgruntlement and a lack of impression, but her eyes, the violent hatter noted, betrayed her with a spark of fear.

"I assure you, that's the least of my intentions on this evening." Where had that come from? He wasn't at all entirely sure. Perhaps it was a false assurance, of course of course. Were she as smart as she had all the others believe, she'd see right through it. A ruse within a ruse, no?

Instead, she corrected him; "It's mid-afternoon. It hasn't been evening for quite a long while."

Had it not? He specifically remembered entering his study just before the sun went down. Perhaps it was an uncharacteristically short nighttime, of course, and the moon had long ago fallen from its nest in the night sky.

"Ah, yes yes," he finally replied, words snaking out like he hoped. The ticking had since calmed down some.

It seemed she left while he was thinking. Had such few thoughts really taken such a short while? Examining his bookcases, he noticed that two were missing from the third shelf.

The ticking persisted as he returned his hat to his head and overturned the still hot tea onto his own paperwork.

It seemed the mockery of an outsider had his own thoughts knit tightly around her finger.


End file.
